My Treasured Secret
by takaxdesu
Summary: She was the thing he treasured most, even when he thought he couldn't care. He was the one man that hadn't given up on her. Now she's losing him, and his final words will have to stick with her forever. They already know he may never return. HermxSevv.


**I do not own Hermione, Severus, or any of the Harry Potter gang.**

**The only thing I claim is the story.**

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She watched him as though she would never see him again. Sitting on one side of the bed, she watched him rise from the other, turning his back to her, pulling on his cloak. "This isn't fair, Severus," she whispered, brushing the tears from her cheek. She watched him shake his head slowly, as though he were holding himself back from something. He sighed despairingly, and she bit her lip, her gaze drifting down into her lap, where she held a picture of the two of them, his only gift to her. In that picture, he was smiling, holding her close, and protecting her from the wind that she remembered was painfully cold. She was smiling there too, her arms wrapped as tightly around him as his were around her, and she couldn't help but notice the protectiveness in his eyes in that picture. The tourist they'd asked to take their picture had done well, and Severus, in all his hours in a darkroom, had done so well in bringing it to life...just the thought of the care he'd put into this picture hurt her...nearly as much as having to watch him leave her for was hurting her now.

"It just isn't fair..."

He turned, sighing, and Hermione gasped at the sight of fresh tears on his pale skin. She stepped in front of him, touching her hands to his shoulders, closing her eyes and resting her forehead on his chest, sobbing. His arms slid awkwardly around her, and she could sense his discomfort, but she couldn't stop crying. His rough fingertips did their best in stroking her hair; an obvious attempt to calm her down, and Hermione knew he was trying. Still she sobbed, and as his rough hand touched her cheek, she closed her eyes and tilted her head into his hand, and she let him tilt her chin up so that she was looking at him. His ebony eyes were so full of emotion, something hard to get used to after months of seeing them void of any feeling, and as she bit her lip, he kissed her forehead. His warm lips pressed to her skin gave her goose bumps, and a light chill eased its way through her body. It surprised her, how warm his lips were, and she almost wanted to cry again as he pulled away. She forced herself to let her hands slide off his shoulders as he stepped back, holding her at arms' length, his hands closed over hers.

She bit her lip, gazing into his obsidian eyes, wondering if she'd ever be able to see him and his eyes ever again. It wasn't fair, and he shouldn't have had to be leaving her like this. She needed him. She wanted him. She loved him. She'd been lying to herself for ten years, telling herself that no, she couldn't love him, but now, now that she'd been out of school and away from his ever critical eye for three years and spending her lonely weekend nights with him during two of the last three years, she knew she loved him. He'd become the only man in her life that had even made a light attempt to care for her, since Ron and Harry had left her behind when they'd found out who she was with. She knew that the two boys hated her now; only because they hated the man she loved. Severus had been hers for three years, she'd slept in his bed at his side, in his arms, and now, that was ending. How she'd come to love him like she had, she had no clue, but all she knew was that she never wanted to say goodbye.

But today, she had no choice. This was the end, and this embrace would be their last. The passionate kiss he left on her lips would be their last, and that long silence as they gazed into each other's eyes for what seemed like ages would be their last. It was their last because he was leaving, never to return, never to see her again, never to write to her that he was alive and well, never to whisper sweet words of kindness in her ear, never to hold her close. What would she do without him? Would she die? Would she live? Would she love? Would she move on? Would she be silent in her pain for the rest of her days?

"Severus..."

Her lips met his, leaving a short, soft kiss for him to savor. His eyes were closed, even as she returned her head to his chest, and his hand stroked her back softly. "Yes?" His low voice, soft, silky, seemed to flow from every inch of his body, and as her head rested on his chest; his heartbeat seemed to accentuate that one small word. He didn't sound impatient, he didn't sound frustrated, he didn't sound hurt, he just sounded as he always did. That same voice that had once been so sarcastic and so cold was full of warmth as he held her close, his arms wrapped warmly around her small frame.

"You have to tell me you love me."

"I love you."

He touched her chin, smiling, stroking her skin softly with his thumb.

"You have to mean it."

"Who says I didn't mean it?"

Silence was her answer. Instead, she slowly raised her head from his chest, gazing up at him, wondering exactly how real this moment was. His oddly soft obsidian eyes stared back at her, studying her, figuring her out, wondering what she was feeling, adjusting to the ridiculously inconvenient fact that after he walked out today, he would never return to her, and that was the part that was unreal about it. Before, if he got mad because they'd fought, he'd leave, and then he'd come back. For three years, he'd been able to come back. But now, it was so - _unreal _- that this time, he wouldn't have a choice. His hand lightly stroked her cheek, and still he studied her eyes. He felt oddly compelled to just kiss her - something that normally, a man like Severus Snape never even considered doing - and to his own further confusion, he smiled, leaving a light kiss on his girlfriend's lips, thinking how silly it was that she was his girlfriend.

In the beginning, he'd thought he was crazy. She was what, 21? He was in his late thirties, and not the type of man that she deserved. Yes, he loved her to some degree, but their relationship had cost her two friends, hadn't it? Hadn't Potter and Weasley left her behind because he'd taken her hand? Severus didn't deserve this creature...this glamorous young woman that apparently wanted nothing more than to be with him forever. He didn't deserve her love, but he craved it. She was his reason to go to sleep at night, if only to wake up beside her in the morning. She was his reason, his reason for everything, and he couldn't go back and tell her no, not now that he knew what he had with her. Not after these years of being with her...not after these years of knowing what love felt like. And he had felt it, hadn't he? He'd claimed her heart, he'd claimed her lips countless times, he'd let himself be lost in this...magic.

Sighing lightly, brushing a strand of chestnut hair from the young woman's cheek, he let his fingers stroke her skin, if only so that he would never forget what it felt like to touch her like this. He watched, almost as if it were in slow motion, as her eyes closed and her lips slowly inched towards his, and as the young woman kissed him, his awkward embrace found its warmth yet again when her hands slid up his chest to rest on his shoulders. He raised an eyebrow ever so slightly as she pulled back, gazing at him, her eyes so close to his that if he were a romantic sort of man, he would have sworn that he was swimming in them. But, because Severus Snape was not a romantic man, he only imagined that he would never have to leave her and her amber eyes. Because he was not a romantic man, his hand only took hers and brought it to his lips, where he left a soft kiss, one that didn't feel entirely certain, but he kissed her hand all the same.

And then, he placed it on his chest, right above his heart. His steady heartbeat, the one pulse that drove the Potions Master through life, was the only thing he could think of that would dissuade the doubt in her eyes; doubt that he never wanted to see again. And he felt like he'd failed, because he saw shining tears threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes. "Why do I get the feeling that I'll never see you again, even if I wanted to?" Her lips quivered as she fell silent, and if Severus had been a romantic man, he would have taken her into his arms and let her cry. Why did he have to leave? Why couldn't Lucius just get over himself? Why couldn't people just fall in love for the sake of being in love? Why couldn't Severus have long enough of a test run to figure out that this was what he wanted? Why had he sided with those that he'd known would eventually bring him to his untimely demise? It just wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to him, it wasn't fair to Hermione, and it wasn't fair to every other couple that even gave half a rat's ass about whether their relationship survived or not.

But because Severus was not a romantic man, he smiled down at her and stroked her cheek, his oddly gentle obsidian eyes twinkling with an emotion Hermione couldn't quite pin down, an emotion that she would never figure out. Both of her delicate hands closed over one of his rough ones, and her soft thumb massaged circles on his wrist. He allowed himself to close his eyes, and he let himself brush his lips across hers, not expecting her to cling to him like she was. All of a sudden, holding on to his hand didn't matter; instead, she clung to him as though her life depended on it. But still, he did have to leave. He did have to face the consequences of happiness. He did have to face the consequences of loving the one woman that had given him half a moment's thought before giving him three years of her love. Letting out a slight, despairing sigh, he touched her hand to his cheek, tilting his cheek into it, closing his eyes, nearly drawing back as her warm fingertips brushed a tear from his eye.

She stood before him, watching him with tears, biting her lip, as he took one last glance at the flat they'd been sharing for two years. Then, he was at the door, and one rough hand made one fluid, beckoning motion, silently begging for her to walk in to his arms one last time. She closed her small hands around that one rough hand, and she pressed her cheek to it, closing her eyes and sobbing lightly. She leaned her forehead against his chest, as she'd done minutes before, and then she looked up at him, forcing herself to keep the tears down. This was not how he was to remember her. She took mere moments to take a few deep breaths and sigh heavily, and then she smiled for him. It wasn't forced; it wasn't painful. It was a smile to remember her by. He kissed her again, and then he forced himself to open the front door, slowly sliding his hand from hers as he turned to walk away.

"Wait...Severus...what about your bag?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "I won't be needing it."

"I love you," she whispered weakly, fighting back faint - overwhelmed by the pain her love was about to endure, by the end he was surely to meet.

"And don't ever say I didn't love you," he replied, giving her what she assumed to be a wink.

"Goodbye..." Her voice was weaker still, shaking, pained, and heartbroken.

"No.I never want to hear you say goodbye."

Once again she nodded in silent understanding. "Until next time, then."

"I love you, Hermione."

She offered a weak smile, and then he turned, stepping out of their flat. He hadn't closed the door, and Hermione barely managed to force herself to watch from the doorway as he disappeared down the hall, and she closed her eyes once she could no longer see him, waiting until she could no longer hear the low thud of her love disappearing towards the exit of the complex. Once she was certain he was gone, she closed the door, leaning against it, then moments later, she sank to the floor, drawing her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and biting her lip. She stared endlessly at the black bag that rested against the bookshelf. But then, shaking her head, she realized that she could barely breathe, let alone think about him. With that thought came more tears, and Hermione was more thankful than ever that he wasn't there to see them. She buried her face in her arms, and eventually, her entire body shook with each sobbing breath that passed her lips, accompanying each and every single tear that slid from her amber eyes.

Her sobs shook her body until she barely had the energy to stay awake, and only then did she rise from her prostrate position in front of the door. Stepping warily through the apartment, as though if she stepped wrong, he would pop up in front of her, dead, pale, and cold, she found her way to the bookshelf, and she knelt beside the bag, easily unsnapping the latch, gasping as she realized what she was looking at.

**_Dear God...these are his letters._**

She sifted through them, shoving back the thought that she was holding papers that he'd once held, that she was sifting through a bag he'd carefully packed, and he realized that this bag was not a travel companion. It was his keepsake, it was his treasury, and it was a way to never forget him. She smiled slightly to herself, and she pulled the first letter, the letter in the front, written in his usual elegant script, biting her lip as she began to read it. It was short, only a few short lines on a half sheet of paper, but still, Hermione planned on treasuring it as much as she would treasure any diamond.

_Hermione -_

_I'd hoped that this would be the first that you'd read. I suppose you want a reason, and I suppose that now that you can do nothing to change fate, you should get the reason that you deserve. _

_It isn't your fault. _

_I was a coward, Hermione. _

_Don't spend the rest of your life blaming it all on yourself._

_Do what you can to be on speaking terms with Potter and Weasley again. I don't think you have any idea how ridiculously difficult it is to see you so hurt over those two._

_P.S. I love you_

_With all of my heart -_

_Severus_

She held the letter tightly to her chest, and then she cried.

He was gone.

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**Please, do read and review. I will be more than happy to see what you thought of my work. **


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